


"Wanna dance?"

by boredsince1894



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, janto, just...utter fluff, they love each other so much leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5823922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredsince1894/pseuds/boredsince1894
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lilypheonix on tumblr gave me the prompt "Wanna dance?" for a drabble for Janto, and I just couldn't resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Wanna dance?"

         Glancing at his phone, Ianto let out a low groan. It was nearly one o’clock in the morning, and he felt like someone had taken out his eyes and replaced them with sandpaper. But, of course, there were still…seven?…at least seven more stacks of paper to go through. And he’d told Tosh–

         Ianto heard soft footsteps pad down the stairs and into the center of the Hub. He froze instantly. A small smile curved his lips as he heard the footfalls grow nearer, and just as he prepared himself to feel strong arms snake around his waist, the noise stopped. He waited another moment.

         Nothing.

         He turned to face Jack, who was leaning against the yellow railing.

         “Enjoying the view?” Ianto said, venturing over to him slowly.

         “Hey, what can I say? You almost always wear a jacket, and–as much as I love your jackets–it’s probably in your arms’ and shoulders’ best interests to keep them off every once in awhile. You must get pretty tense.”

         Ianto let out a breathy laugh as he reached Jack, resting a hand on his lover’s neck. “You just used far too many words for a simple ‘yes.’” He gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. “Now, unless you’ve come to tell me Myfanwy’s starting to get a little too hungry, I’m going to get back to the massive stacks of paperwork Tosh and I have been sorting through all evening. She said she recognizes the alien tech we recovered yesterday from somewhere, but I don’t, so she’s insisted we look through some of the stuff in the archives on extraterrestrial kitchen utensils. I know it’s not there though, and I’ll be damned if I don’t look through every last sheet to prove that I’ve won this bet.”

         “I didn’t know you’d placed any bets.”

         “We haven’t,” said Ianto, shrugging, “but I’m going to win anyways.”

         Jack let out a chuckle that was quickly cut short as Ianto began to slip his hand from his neck. Jack quickly grasped it and held it close to him. “Wanna dance?”

         Ianto blinked. “What?”

         “Do you want to dance? Ianto, it’s…1:07 in the morning,” he stated after glancing at his wrist, “we’ve had a long day, your eyelids look like they’re so heavy that once they fall, they’ll be shut forever, and you want to look through paperwork. Come dance with me.”

         Ianto considered this proposition for some time before letting out a half-hearted, “We don’t have any music.”

         “Not a problem,” Jack grinned, disentangling himself from Ianto before bounding over to Tosh’s desk. He reached under it and flicked a switch. Music began to crackle and echo throughout the Hub. Ianto raised an eyebrow.

         “I don’t remember seeing _that_ in the Hub’s blueprints.”

         “Well,” Jack said as he returned to Ianto, wrapping an arm around his back, “I couldn’t exactly pull out all the stops in our first week. Wouldn’t want you getting too bored of me.” He pulled his lover’s hand to his own heart–something he insisted on doing every time they danced together–and began to sway, humming along. “This song is–”

         “Glenn Miller’s version of ‘Georgia on My Mind.’ I know. You love his music.” Jack smiled and leaned his head against the side of Ianto’s.

         “Never goes out of style.”

         “I’m starting to wonder whether or not you know what ‘style’ is anymore.”

         “Oi, I never hear you complaining about my coat.”

         “Shut up,” Ianto murmured into Jack’s neck.

         “Gladly.”


End file.
